


brittle bones

by bipolaryangxiaolong (rosesandcinnamon)



Series: wings of wax [5]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, F/F, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-01-31 10:22:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12679932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosesandcinnamon/pseuds/bipolaryangxiaolong
Summary: You don’tdeserve her, some angry, twisted thing in her hisses. Tears leave tracks of salt down her cheeks.





	brittle bones

**Author's Note:**

> I focus a lot on Yang in this series because well, she's my bipolar daughter, but Blake needs some love too. [Candles by Daughter](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BucfErwPTWs) was a main inspiration for this fic, and for Adam and Blake's dynamic. That might become a fic sometime, but it won't be for a long while. The abuse tagged isn't prominent, just slight mentions. 
> 
> I'd like to thank everyone who has left comments on _wings of wax_ and _heaven in hiding_. Your thoughts mean the world to me, and have made me understand the importance of what I thought was just a dumb headcanon. I love hearing from you guys.

It takes her a while to become comfortable with it, but Blake loves being in public with Yang. She loves the simple shows of affection that imply _this person is mine_ \- holding hands, arms wrapped around shoulders or waists, quick cheek kisses. She doesn’t love the occasional side glances they get, but in the end they don’t matter. What matters is her beautiful girlfriend who adores her.

“What are you thinking about?” Yang squeezes her hand, looking down at her.

“You,” Blake says, smiling, and Yang’s heart flutters. She blushes, lost for words, and Blake laughs. “You’re _such_ a nerd.”

“You’re a nerd for liking me,” Yang retorts, and Blake shrugs.

“So I am.”

They keep walking through the mall, and Blake realizes they’re headed to the bookstore. _Oh my god, she loves me so much_ , she thinks, and the warmth in her chest is absolutely the best feeling. Once at the bookstore, Yang lets go of her hand.

“I’ll get us something to drink, you go pick out a book.”

“I love you,” Blake murmurs in reply, and Yang kisses her head.

“I love you too.”

They part ways. Blake wanders through the aisles, letting her fingertips skim across the spines. She stops and reads flaps every so often, amber eyes lost in the words. Yang orders their drinks: tea for Blake, hot chocolate for her, and asks the barista if they can draw a heart on Blake’s cup. The barista laughs but does it. Yang just smiles. She takes the drinks when they’re ready and goes over to where she knows Blake will end up. Blake is standing at a shelf, nose in a book. Yang settles into a chair and waits, eyes on her girlfriend. When Blake finally looks up, she’s not startled by Yang’s presence, just embarrassed.

“How long have you been here?”

“Just a minute or so. Is that one interesting?”

Blake turns it over in her hands, considering it. “Not my thing.” Yang nods, slight smile on her face, and Blake is suddenly self-conscious.

“Am I taking too long? I-”

“Blake,” Yang interrupts, so gently, and her voice quiets the anxiety in Blake’s stomach. “You’re fine.”

“Are you sure?” She mumbles the question, and Yang’s lilac gaze is soft.

“I would sit here and look at you all day if I could.”

Blake nods, words stuck in her throat, and continues to look through the books. She’s aware of Yang’s eyes on her, but some selfish part of her is living for the attention. That same part is not the best of her, she knows. Yet Yang seems to temper it, redirects it to focus only on the good in her life. Blake glances back to her at the thought, and regrets it when she receives a saucy wink as they make eye contact. She blushes, going right back to her books, ignoring the quiet laughter.

When Blake picks a book, she goes back to Yang with a quiet “I’m ready to go.” Yang smiles, hands her the cup of tea, and asks her about the book. They walk to the register talking.

They reach the line, and somehow, Yang tugs the book out of her hands. “Yang,” Blake protests. “Don’t.”

“I’m gonna,” Yang tells her. Blake sighs, reaching for it, and all affection in her expression vanishes when Yang holds the book above their heads. “Something wrong, kitten?” she teases, and Blake crosses her arms.

“You’re the worst.”

“You love me,” Yang’s smug tone is unfairly attractive, and Blake can’t help but turn her head away and ignore her. “If we weren’t in public I’d kiss your pout away,” she murmurs as she comes close. Blake blushes, allowing her to put an arm around her waist.

“Whatever.”

Yang pays for the book and they leave the store, hand in hand. Blake smiles, taking in her environment with ease, assured by the presence by her side. They walk together, talking, ducking into stores, making jokes. It’s good and right and more than anything Blake could ever ask for.

She sees a sharply cut black coat in the crowd and thinks nothing of it. Then her gaze takes in the red hair, and the height, and the pace, and she stops short, dragging Yang to a halt as well. For a moment, she can’t process anything. Her mind floods with memories of the good and the bad, and the ugly, The warmth in her chest is replaced with a bone-aching chill, tearing at her insides. It hurts.

Her voice comes out as a whimper: “Yang,” she says, and coughs in a feeble attempt to get rid of the fear clawing at her throat. “Yang, we need to leave right now.”

Yang watches the absolute panic in Blake’s face, and asks no questions. She simply tugs their fingers apart to put a protective hand on her shoulder, turning around and going to the nearest exit with quick yet assertive steps. Blake puts her head down, dark hair falling around her face, trying to fight the terror building in her chest. Yang slows their pace as they walk out of the mall, rubbing her back.

“Breathe a little, Blake.” Her voice is firm but quiet, and Blake takes a breath. She tries to breathe as slowly as possible as they walk to Yang’s car. Yang guides her around to the passenger door, unlocking and opening it for her. Blake accepts the gesture. Yang gets in and puts the key in the ignition, but doesn’t turn it. She’s silent for a moment, desperately searching for a phrasing that won’t make Blake feel guilty.

“What would you like to do?” she asks, turning to face her. “I can drop you off, we can go to my house, we can get food…” her voice is quiet as she offers the options, treading into unfamiliar territories.

Blake’s eyes are burning with tears. She stares straight ahead. “Can we go to my house?” She manages to not burst into sobs, but she knows Yang is aware of her distress.

“Of course, Blake.” With the simple statement, Yang starts her car, reverses, and once she’s out of the parking spot, she touches Blake’s thigh. It’s a gentle brush, a silent “I’m here” gesture.

 _You don’t_ **_deserve her_ ** , some angry, twisted thing in her hisses. Tears leave tracks of salt down her cheeks. At a red light, Yang leans over to the glovebox, rifling through paper and junk to find a little pack of tissues.

“Here,” she says, and Blake holds back a sob. The drive to her house feels like a million years but only a few minutes at the same time, and it’s disconcerting. She sees the empty driveway, and a small burden is lifted off of her shoulders- she won’t have to deal with her parents in this state. Yang pulls up to the sidewalk, and hesitates after putting the car in park. “Do you want me to stay?”

“Please,” Blake says, voice about to crack, and Yang nods. They get out of the car, Yang wrapping an arm around her shoulders as soon as they’re close enough. She punches in the garage code for her without being asked, pressing a kiss to Blake’s head when she sucks in a breath to say something.

“You’re fine.” They go upstairs, and Blake falls into her bed. Yang is close behind, sitting down against the headboard and letting Blake shove herself in her lap. They’re quiet save for Blake’s crying. Yang hates herself for asking “Can you tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart?” Blake shakes with a sob  and Yang cringes at her reaction. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to, I just want to help.”

“Can I tell you later?” Blake manages to get the question out, and Yang kisses her hair.

“Yes, of course,” she murmurs. “Anything for you.”

They’re quiet until Blake’s tears subside and she’s able to breathe again. She readjusts her weight, pressing her face into Yang’s chest. “You’re comfy,” Blake breathes, the emotional exhaustion starting to affect her. Yang begins to comb through her hair, gently scratching at her scalp like she likes. Blake sighs in appreciation, closing her eyes. They’re silent until Yang makes a soft sound.

“Kitten, don’t fall asleep on me. Your parents aren’t home and your door is closed.” Yang begins to shift, sitting up. Blake clings to her, dead weight in her lap.

“It doesn’t matter,” Blake says, petulant.

“Blake, they already don’t like me.”

“They like you!” The petulant tone worsens. Yang doesn’t want to upset her further, but she’s certain neither Ghira or Kali would be particularly happy with them.

“Please, kitten.” The usage of the pet name as well as the worry in her tone is enough to make Blake get off of Yang, sulky but willing to compromise.

“You have to get up and do it then.”

“I will,” she says, so gentle. She goes over and opens the door, then settles back down with Blake on the bed. “Do you want to get into more comfortable clothes or something?” Blake shrugs, but sits up and takes her jacket off.

“Cuddle me,” she whines at her, and Yang can’t help but smile. She takes a blanket from the foot of the bed and covers Blake with it before lying down next to her. They do cuddle for a while, Yang kissing her face every so often. Blake accepts the affection with a heavy heart. Yang’s warmth has lessened the chill inside her torso yet she can still feel the bite. She sighs, and with her eyes closed, she can’t see the way Yang is looking at her with concern.

“Are you sure you want to tell me? You don’t have to.” Her question is an absolute surprise to Blake.

“Oh.” She considers it, trying to reconcile her fear and the deeply rooted pain with how she wants to tell Yang, almost _needs_ to tell Yang. “Yeah, I do.”

“Okay,” Yang says, and tucks a piece of hair behind Blake’s ear, palm of her hand brushing gently across her temple. It brings a smile to her face that Yang so dearly loves. After a moment, Blake shifts onto her other side.

“Can- can you hold me like this? It’ll be easier if you’re not looking at me.”

“Oh. Okay.” Yang moves closer to her, chest pressed to her back and arm tucked around her waist. Blake covers her hand with her own, closing her eyes.

“Do you want a summary or a longer version?”

“I want whatever you want to tell me,” Yang says, and touches her lips to a freckle on Blake’s shoulder.

She takes a deep breath. “So. I had this friend who was a senior and I was a freshman. When she graduated, we stayed friends. She went to college and got involved in a lot of activism, and introduced me to her new friends.” She’s keeping it together so far, and she’s proud of that, but she can feel herself start to tremble. “There was this guy in her group. Our parents were friends, so we had known each other for a long time. But then we met again and- and I was _stupid_ , and he was so, so charismatic. We got together. I thought I was in love,” she chokes out. Her throat is too tight to continue the story, but she thinks Yang can infer the rest. Yang’s arm tightens around her, and she sighs. “I thought I saw him today, and I just panicked. I’m sorry.” She’s quiet for a moment, tears building up again, and says “I don’t even know if it was _him_ , I’m so _pathetic_.” Yang’s heart is aching.

“Can I ask you a question?” Her voice is low. Blake nods. “Did he hurt you?”

All Blake can manage is a whisper. “Yeah,” she responds, and Yang gathers her even closer, until there is no possible space between them. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” she manages to say past the lump in her throat. Yang ducks her head to press kisses to her shoulder and the curve of her neck.

“No, don’t apologize,” she says. “It’s okay.”

“It’s _not_ , I should have told you-”

“You don’t have to tell anyone anything.”

Blake is quiet, mouth opening and closing, tears welling up once more. The silence makes Yang nervous, but before she says anything, Blake blurts out “I love you.” They’ve said it before, yet now Yang is quiet. Blake, suddenly anxious, keeps talking. “And- you’ve treated me so well, and my parents love you, and you’ve never pushed my boundaries or lied to me and _I love you_.” Her voice breaks and she clutches at Yang’s hand.

“I can't believe that anyone has treated you like anything less,” Yang says, tears in her tone. “I know it’s not mine to be upset over, but fuck, Blake, I could never even dream of hurting you.”

“You’re so good to me.” Blake lets go of her hand, moving to face her. Yang’s lilac eyes are shiny, and Blake touches her cheek. “You can cry if you want to,” she whispers. “I know I have.”

“No, it’s okay,” Yang replies, even as she closes her eyes and tears slip out. Blake scoots herself up, pressing their foreheads together. Yang sighs at the contact, putting her arm around Blake again. “I love you too. So much, kitten.”

They do nothing for the rest of the afternoon, and slowly, Yang melts the ice in her chest. Blake reflects idly as she slips into sleep- even when she was with Adam, nothing ever felt this right. With him, it was risky, it was exciting, it was dangerous even when she thought she was in control. With Yang, there can still be elements of unpredictability, yet she feels secure. Not only will Yang always keep her safe, she has also given her the room to protect herself. With that thought, she nuzzles into Yang’s shoulder, and feels soft lips touch her cheek in return.

**Author's Note:**

> rest in peace bookstores in malls, i miss u borders


End file.
